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“Bruce.”
”What.”
“Bruce, you’re doing it wrong.”
Bruce scowled at the half-mixed bowl of batter, looking as though it had wronged his family.
Clark suppressed a laugh as he wiped the flecks of flour and dough off his partner’s face.
“How am I doing this wrong, Clark. The color and texture are similar enough to the picture.”
Clark shook his head and tossed the used tissue into the bin. “That color is definitely not right, but that’s not the only thing you got wrong, B. Just admit you’re wrong and we can start over.”
Bruce narrowed his eyes, blue and cold as Antarctica’s ice.
“Admit I’m wrong.” His voice dropped an octave in that dangerous way he only used on criminals.
It was, admittedly, still scary– but the effect was greatly diminished by his frazzled appearance and the World’s Okayest Dad embroidered apron.
It was cute. Clark was never going to say it out loud for fear of his life, but it was cute.
“Yes, B. It’s not that hard.” Clark replied. “Just say ‘I’m sorry for using unnecessary ingredients in the batter mix.' And then we can laugh and move one, okay?”
Bruce placed the hand mixer down beside the blueberries and onions, looking more disgruntled than ever.
“None of these ingredients are unnecessary, Clark. I researched which ingredients would best suit a blueberry mix, and chose these ingredients from the list.”
Clark closed his eyes and thought back to his childhood with Ma. Had he ever been this bullheaded when cooking? He could only remember the time he had religiously added chili pepper flakes to his chocolate, but that hadn’t been as bad as… whatever the heck Bruce was doing.
He pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed.
“Did onions really show up on that list, Bruce? Ginger? Broccoli?” He almost choked on the last food. “This is a dessert, not a savory dish.”
Bruce had the decency to look mildly chagrined. “Each of these are anti-oxidant, anti-inflammatory foods, so I concluded that they would go well together.”
He picked up an unpeeled onion and tossed it into the mix with the others. “These foods can help decrease triglycerides and reduce cholesterol levels, all of which may help lower the risk of heart disease.”
It was ridiculous, and smart, and stupid, but Clark couldn’t keep the fondness from blooming in his chest. For such an intelligent man, Bruce could be incredibly clueless in common household affairs.
Then again, that should be expected from someone who used most of their formative years to learn how to become a crime-fighting vigilante; and when he had someone to do all those “common” things for you.
He looked down at the not-quite batter mix. On one hand, this was a completely unsalvageable dessert. On the other hand, he didn’t want Bruce’s effort to go to waste.
He sighed. “We can turn this into a savory cookie. You can start picking out all the blueberries and chocolate bits.”
He pushed the bowl over to Bruce, who wrinkled his nose in distaste at being ordered to do anything. “This is why you shouldn’t start baking without me.”
Bruce took the bowl begrudgingly. “I thought I could do it on my own,” he muttered. “It doesn’t look that hard. I’ve seen Jason and Alfred do it. I don’t see why I can’t.”
Clark laughed. “Oh, Bruce. Cooking is a lot more than just mashing ingredients together, you know.”
Bruce shot him a killer glare, but Clark gleefully took over the preparations for a second, much sweeter batch of cookies.
The two of them worked together in tandem. With someone to guide him, Bruce’s cooking “mishaps” were carefully avoided.
(“Tomatoes are fruits. They would be a sweet and healthy addition.”
“We are not adding ketchup to the cookies!”).
Everything was going absolutely swimmingly, until the time came to put the cookies in the oven.
“No, B– Just follow the instructions! The baking instructions are the law!”
“Sometimes the law isn’t good enough! My way will be more efficient!”
“I bet that’s what you thought when you became Batman!” Clark snapped, grabbing the tray out of Bruce’s hands.
Bruce glowered, his eyes dark and furious. In one clean move, he swept Clark’s legs off the floor. Clark fumbled with the tray, trying to keep it out of reach as he fought to regain his balance.
Bruce pressed his advantage and reached for the falling tray. Clark grit his teeth, and in a burst of superspeed, he stabilized himself and pulled the tray out of Bruce’s grasp, floating several inches off the ground.
“No. Powers. Inside. The. House.” Bruce growled.
Clark let himself touch back down on the floor. “I just saved your cookie-making ass, I’m not letting you ruin it again!”
“It’s basic math, Clark, I don’t see how that’s so difficult to comprehend!” Bruce snapped. “If it requires 10 minutes at 175 degrees Celsius, then it can be completed in 1 minute at–”
“That’s not how the oven works!” Clark cried. “Don’t touch the babies I worked so hard on!”
Bruce took a deep breath, then exhaled slowly. “If anything, they’re our babies, Clark, so put them in the oven already.”
Clark kept a careful watch on him as he placed the tray into the oven, before finally closing the lid and turning around. Bruce stood with his arms crossed, looking some cross between annoyed and disappointed.
Clark felt bad for preventing his partner’s… experiment, but these cookies were essential in every New Year’s celebration. He couldn’t let him mess it up just because Alfred was taking a much-needed break.
Clark reached out gingerly. “We can do whatever the heck you want during the Chinese New Year celebration, okay? No hard feelings?”
Bruce glanced at him, before quickly looking away as though he’d stared right into the sun. “You’re just saying that because Cass will be with us next time.”
But he opened his arms anyway, big grump that he is, and Clark immediately took the invitation and gave him a hug.
Bruce shifted uncomfortably between his arms. “We’re still covered in all this food gunk, boy scout.”
Clark beamed. “You mean you’re covered in food gunk. Ma didn’t raise a messy cook.”
Bruce hmphed. “I bet you were the kind of kid that stuck his finger in cookie dough to eat.”
Clark grinned brightly. “Yeah, I was.” And he wiped the stray dough from Bruce’s cheeks and licked it, just to prove he could.